


Could Have Been a Fever Dream

by RubixaSeraph



Series: Reignite the Flame [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Biting, Creampie, F/M, and bittersweet things, and then sex, light bloodplay, porn with fluff, some setup first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubixaSeraph/pseuds/RubixaSeraph
Summary: The plan was to get onto the island, do some research without bothering anyone, take a look into the Order of the Sword, and then get out.The plan went askew.First obstacle: the citizens of Fortuna, being wary of foreigners.But then help came in the form of an angelic knight named Seraphina Valkyrie.So the new plan entailed her hospitality, and everything else went according to plan:Do some research without bothering anyone, find out the curiosities of the Order of the Sword, respect Sera’s hospitality and don’t get into trouble, spend a night comforting his host-Wait. How did he come to this? Of all the things he came to Fortuna for, bedding the gracious lady knight was so spur of the moment that it had his head reeling.All Vergil had wanted to do at first was to ease her from her upset state. Somehow, the experience he got out of it was his first taste at intimacy.
Relationships: Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s)
Series: Reignite the Flame [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681678
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Could Have Been a Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> [Look I have no idea if I'm doing this right so all I can say is, I hope my first attempt at writing smut is of passable quality. And I am someone who very much cares for quality. Thank you for taking interest, and I hope this is enjoyable.]

There was that one point in time where Vergil had asked himself: How did this happen?

It wasn’t a question he liked to ask himself, because it implied that somehow, somewhere, he had lost control of where he was going, or what he was doing. Or both. 

She was asleep. And he was awake. And he needed to figure out where he was going to go from here, fast. 

Before the morning came… he needed to make some decisions. But reaching the conclusion is going to require some… reflection…

* * *

When he had first arrived in Fortuna, he had thought it would be good to take mostly empty alleys and routes. This was for several reasons… one, of course, was to avoid people. By nature alone, he stood out. And he was quick to learn that Fortuna was a very closed off society. 

Another reason happened to be due to demons; once they had caught scent of him or learnt of who he was, they became more than just a bother. Though Vergil had become desensitized from collateral damage, he could not deny that collateral damage was not helpful, and definitely caused even more problems in the long term. So he tried to mitigate that for the sake of what’s left of his waning patience. 

He did not anticipate the less populated areas or less used routes to have a very specific patrol. In fact, he did not learn that there was a very specific patrol until a little over a week of being on Fortuna. 

He had only been here for two days, and this was another irksome moment of finding himself tailed by lesser demons with a death wish. Demons that were of no real match for him, and served only to waste his time. He specifically made sure to go off to a more secluded route in order to take care of his unwelcome companions out of sight of the populace, especially out of sight of the Order Knights…

So impatient was he to be done with the encounter that his final unfortunate “fan” did not get to receive an autograph carved by the Yamato, because he had failed to notice someone else was at the scene:

An Order Knight. 

Female, and strangely alone. She had dropped down from nowhere (he wasn’t paying attention at that time) and dispatched the last scarecrow by wrapping some form of bladed whip about its sorry excuse of a neck, and brutally pulling the weapon away to serrate her foe. Demon blood splattered, which wasn’t a scene Vergil was fond of, when clean cuts worked more efficiently and elegantly. 

She was quite unbothered by the blood all over her once-crisp white and gold uniform, and she wasn’t even looking at the dead and decaying demon at her feet. She instead nodded respectfully at him, and said: “You are quite the swordsman. I can certainly appreciate the work you did here, but it would be remiss of me to not do my job…”

Not wanting to become entangled with the questioning he was sure to receive, he told her evenly: “Then I will leave you to it, and be on my way. I bid you a good day.” And turned to walk away, even if it were a bit hastily. 

She didn’t follow, or call for him to stop. And he thought that would be the end of that. 

He was wrong, because two days later, in a very similar situation of him needing to shake off an entourage of lesser demons, he encountered her again. This time, she found him by corralling a demon that she was already chasing into his circle of foes. It appears she hadn’t meant to intentionally find him, so he had hoped if he left immediately after the fight, there wouldn’t be any problems. 

Except this time, she called out for him to wait, and gave chase. 

So he used a trick of his the moment he turned a corner, out of her sight. He teleported up to a higher level, and glanced over the edge to make sure she wasn’t following. Satisfied, he turned to be on his way again. 

He didn’t notice her glancing up and narrowing her turquoise eyes at the edge of the roof he had left from.

Four more days passed. The encounter was almost forgotten, until he was yet again tailed by demons. It was never-ending at this literal hell-hole of a city. Why had Sparda found it apt to maintain a city above a natural hell gate? 

This time, though he drew out the demons at another secluded route, he decided to wait it out a little before actually engaging in combat…

And sure enough, the knight arrived at the scene. _“It would be remiss of me to not do my job.”_ Her words. So he will let her do her job. 

Except curiosity was a bane. Instead of leaving her to clear the hoard, he stood in the shadows to watch her performance. This was the first time he was registering the fact that her weapon was not any normal weapon. In fact, they were not typical Order-issued blades at all. 

He didn’t care where she could have gotten the weapons from, but dual-rapiers that could turn into bladed whips were either a Devil Arm of some sort, or crafted by a skilled demonic-weaponsmith. Furthermore, not just anyone could master such weapons. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what changed his mind about leaving, outside of curiosity; he would momentarily come to regret interfering, but when it became clear to him that what he drew out was much more than she could handle, numbers-wise, he made the impulsive decision to… set things right. 

It might have been her job to patrol, but it was technically his fight that he threw her way. 

But he was careful to not show his entire hand. The last thing he wanted was for the knight to be wise to his more particular abilities, such as his summoned swords. 

And after the fight, he did something that he would later consider to be very stupid. The idea of having to explain himself in any way to the knight was not a pleasant one, so he simply gave her a nod of courtesy, pulled his cloak closer to himself, and left post haste. 

“Hey! Wait just a second!” 

It shouldn’t be hard to do what he did last time, right? Outrunning her would not be hard; all he needed to do was get out of her sight, and find a good place to teleport to… 

He found himself up on a balcony in his bid to shake her off, but as he watched her turn the corner, she somehow knew exactly where to look. 

His choices were to either let her see that he was able to teleport away, or remain where he was for her to catch up. 

* * *

As it turns out, the knight was very adept at scaling buildings, using both her unique weapons and wired snap-hooks at her waist. 

“You know, I’m kind of miffed that you somehow got up here so effortlessly. I made a _sport_ of scaling this city when I was younger, until Leo hunted me down and conscripted me to ‘put my skills to better use than being a teenage menace.’ Hey, don’t leave! At least let me give you a proper thank you!”

* * *

In between stubborn pride versus beneficial offers, the want for a meal and a decent place to sleep won out. Though he initially did not make daily use of the offer, he eventually found himself going back more often, over time, because Seraphina Valkyrie has proven herself to at least be a trustworthy host. 

The agreements they had reached were both interestingly basic, but also surprisingly comfortable:

 _Questions may be asked, but answers were not an obligation._ Half truths are fine, but lying was not. 

_Help yourself to whatever basics for breakfast if you are about in the morning. Dinner is often at 7, and if you want dinner, be available by 6 to help with preparations, or you’re on your own._

...He was supposed to be on his own about lunch. That arrangement went askew, later. He didn’t tell her that she was feeding him more regularly than he’s been fed since he was eight. 

The biggest stipulation revolved around a simple statement: “I will respect you, if you respect me.”

When he asked her why she was making the offer to a stranger and foreigner in the first place, she first said: “People tend to fear what is unfamiliar. Strangers that apparently sleep out in the streets are even more concerning. Yes, I checked what few inns we have. I know you aren’t staying at any of them. I’m getting night patrol because of you. But I’m not as judgmental as my fellow neighbors. What are you here for? So long as you don't hurt anyone, I’ll offer you a place to stay until you leave the city.”

* * *

“Seraphina’s guest?” The librarian scrutinized him on the first day he entered.

“I won’t be in the city for too long.”

“Yes, but…” The librarian sighed, “Of course, that woman… well, what are you here for?”

“I’m interested in the history of your city, and any… cultural texts you may have.” He didn’t like the idea of referring to what they have as a religion. To him, it was preposterous.

The look of scrutiny he received seemed to bear some sort of heavy story behind it, but he didn’t care so long as he could be left alone to do his research. 

* * *

Though the ancient histories section was sparingly used, it was not so secluded that he could not overhear other conversations with his enhanced hearing:

“She brought in an outsider?”

“Should we even be surprised? After all, her mother…”

Someone scoffed: “A crying shame. And she’s continuing it. Her mother could have done so much better, but instead she threw away her family’s esteem for that _foreigner_ who couldn’t even remember who he was or where he was from.”

“She still gave her the _name_ though. Sir Valkyrie is still furious that she became a knight proper, as if she still deserved any ties with the family. But the Supreme General dismissed all of his protests!”

“Furious. But would you also blame him for being bitter? She’s not just a Holy Knight of the Order now, but one of the Officers. That’s not a position that comes easy! Not like he could claim her as his granddaughter after disowning her mother, now.”

“Bah, you know what I’ve heard? She’s the Supreme General’s favorite. Gets to do whatever she wants, with her own patrol areas. And special weapons to make her come out top in combat, I’ve been told. You know what I think…?”

The conversation hushed down some, but the implication of what was discussed wasn’t lost when another librarian exclaimed: “Surely not? I’ve heard she’s very close to the Supreme General’s wife, too. His wife almost babies her!”

“That’s how girls like her do it. It’s called hoodwinking.”

“Oh stop it! General Leo can’t really be that type of man, could he? And really, how could Seraphina be more lovely than his wife, Nova? She shines brighter than anyone in this city, and is infinitely more respectable than that hot tempered knight.”

“All I’m saying is that there’s definitely favoritism going on. The only reason she’s remotely good at what she does is because of those swords of hers.”

At that point, Vergil tried harder to tune out the inane conversation. He could care less about the gossip people had. Seraphina’s name was just barely a convenience for him to stay long enough in the city to find out what he needed. No more than that. 

But he will internally disagree with the gossip assessment on Seraphina’s skills. 

* * *

He had not taken advantage of Sera’s offer of food and amenities a second time until three days later. Between research at the library and careful scouting of what secrets Fortuna was hiding, going back wasn’t something on his mind. 

But on that day, he heard from the front desk area: “Ah. Lady… Valkyrie…”

“All is well here?”

“What could possibly be unwell at a library? No demons hiding in the shadows here, Lady Valkyrie.”

“Truly? I have heard a few concerns from a passerby or two. People seemed spooked about something in a somewhat less used section of this library.”

“Oh, please. Being barely used as they are, that means hardly anything goes on in those sections.”

“Then you assure me everything is fine?” 

“...Yes, of course.” The answer was lower now, for even all the animosities that comes with gossip must still be contained within the lines of public respect, however faked that respect might be. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just pop in over there for a moment, and then be on my way.”

Vergil heard footsteps approach the section he currently occupied. He also heard the librarian mutter lowly: “As if you wouldn’t do as you please, regardless…”

Seraphina herself certainly heard that, because as she came into view, Vergil could see the remnants of a sigh in her expression. 

“Good afternoon.” She greeted him. 

“Afternoon.” He brought his gaze back down to the material he was reading. 

“Is fish something that agrees with you for dinner?”

He recognized a hard-to-refuse offer when it was given. But was he really obligated? If he had caused her trouble, then that was on her. She was the one who offered him association, after all. 

But as of current, he hadn’t really found anything of use, yet. And what activities within the castle that caught his interest, he needed more time to investigate. Which meant needing less reasons to be chased out of the city. 

“I should be able to take a break from my readings to arrive at 6.” 

* * *

She made wonderful food. He couldn’t say if it were the best out there, but it was a good meal nonetheless. 

He may not enjoy socialization much, but he was not about to throw proper etiquette out the window. His mother had taught him better than that. So in addition to having helped with dinner preparations, he helped with cleanup, also. 

Sera was a lot less prying than he thought she was going to be. She took all of his answers from the first day at face value; that he wasn’t looking to cause harm or trouble, and that he was on the island for research. She did not ask what it was for, or where he came from. The only question she had today, which he had refused to answer on the first day, was: “Will I still be refused if I asked for your name, today?”

At that moment, he had been about to spend a bit of downtime at her living room couch with his book, the only other item on him of sentimental value beyond his mother’s pendant and the Yamato. 

“I do not believe it would matter, seeing as I do not want to trouble you or this city any longer than I need to. Once I’m finished with what I’m looking for, I would rather be barely a ghost, with no presence to be remembered by.” He stated. 

She had left him alone for a while longer, while he read in peace, and she worked at maintaining her weapons that usually remained coiled about her forearms when not in use. 

“I understand your reasoning, and I respect that. But I need some way of referring to you, and I refuse to let ‘stranger’ or ‘foreigner’ become your labels. Would you permit me something to call you by, at least?”

He hadn’t wanted to care, but he was under the impression that the word “foreigner” was a poison from her past and her family history. 

“Suit yourself.” 

“Then I hope you would not object to me calling you V, seeing as that’s what’s on the cover of your book.”

* * *

Days passed. Vergil knew now that Foruna’s Order of the Sword was researching into some manner of magic and ritual involving demons in their own bid for power. Commendable, and curious. But his time for being able to look into it was limited. 

In order to keep out of sight and trouble, he kept up what appearances he could on adhering to a curfew. So he had arrived at Sera's apartment one evening to find her partaking in what was certainly one bottle too many of alcohol for a human woman of her stature. 

She had tensed upon his arrival, and when she forced her shoulders to relax, she apologized: “I didn’t think you were stopping by tonight. I’m afraid I didn’t make plans for dinner tonight. But you are free to help yourself to the kitchen.”

He wasn’t actually hungry. But he wasn’t going to tell her that he didn’t need the meal. Still, she caught his gaze remaining on the alcohol bottles before her, and she sighed: “I lost my parents when I was 14. Today is not a good date on the calendar for me.”

What was it to him, that she experienced such loss?

Enough for him to silently move into the kitchen and prepared his best attempt at a passable dinner. He helped enough in the kitchen to have learnt something from it. 

She thanked him with a bitter smile and silent tears when he brought a serving to her living room coffee table. 

He’s certain he’s not supposed to find her moment of grieving to be fetching. There should be nothing beautiful about the grief of losing loved ones. 

Maybe it was the way she said ‘Thank you, V.’ amid her silent tears. 

* * *

The concept of downtime rarely crossed his mind. But Sera’s apartment was slowly becoming a sanctuary. No inane conversations to overhear. No strangers giving him judgemental looks. No need to dodge prying questions when simple refusals will do the trick. 

On days where he partook of dinner with her, he would have time after to read before retreating to the guest room. 

On some of those evenings, Sera would be seen writing on notepad paper or in a notebook, instead of performing weapon maintenance.

It was some of the few calm moments he had. 

* * *

He had caught the scent of something larger roaming about. A demon of higher caliber…

And then her scent. 

He hadn’t meant to interfere. But then he caught the scent of blood. Her blood. 

Vergil arrived to find Sera fighting against a Blitz with a bleeding gash on the outside of her right thigh. 

At that moment, he somehow did not need to convince himself to act. The Blitz met its end with a single and precise slice of the Yamato. 

After wiping the blade clean and bringing it back into its sheath with a satisfying snap, he turned to find her examining him in an expression he couldn’t read. 

Could someone be both pleased and sad at the same time?

* * *

“V, I have a selfish request.”

“I cannot refuse it without knowing what it is, first.” He didn’t even bother to look up from his book when she asked. 

“Spar with me.”

“Even with that leg wound you received last week?”

“I’m a knight, not a damsel. It’s been a week.”

He contemplated for a moment before closing his book carefully, and assessed her current gaze. There was something resolute in it. 

“Why? You have fellow knights to measure against.”

“I need to know how I measure up to you.”

Vergil wasn’t sure where this was going to lead. He should refuse.

* * *

Seraphina Valkyrie lived up to something that she didn’t actually measure herself up to, even in losing against Vergil. She was a relentlessly burning flame.

At first, he thought the session wasn’t going to last long. As far as he was concerned, Sera was human, and that meant she would not be able to match him.

She was skilled with the rapier, and deadly with the whip. But he was a Son of Sparda, who could win such a contest based on stamina alone. 

Outside of the city, under a starry night and a full moon, the spar started with a test of waters. And then she pressed with a focus and motivation that Vergil did not fathom she had. Soon, simple dodging and side-stepping was not enough. She began to force him to parry, and eventually take her more seriously. Even when he had caught one of her bladed whips tangled about Yamato’s sheath, even after he pulled her off-balance and threw her across the field by her own weapon, she recovered and immediately closed the gap. 

She forced him to draw his sword, and when he did, he saw a glimmer of anticipation in her eye. 

He felt ashamed that he didn’t take her seriously from the start. 

She deserved an honest fight. 

So he gave her one, retaliating instead of dodging her assaults. Blade caught against blade, blow against blow, almost like a dance… 

One that she would. Not. Stop. 

And eventually, Vergil noticed that if she continued this relentless pace, all she was serving to do was hurt herself in the end. He had to end this. Had to make her give up before she broke herself. 

Why was she fighting so hard?

_‘I need to know how I measure up to you.’_

Futile. 

It was time to end this.

* * *

Back at her apartment, Sera took her defeat bitterly as she tended to her own bruises and scrapes at the kitchen table. “It’s never enough, isn’t it?” 

Vergil did not answer, opting to remain standing at the other side of the table. He had won the match. But somehow, he felt like he had lost in _something_ , and needed to make up for it.

“It’s never enough. Somewhere, out there, is always something that will prove me lacking. What am I even doing anymore? I thought that if I get stronger, become better, it would take away the regrets I had when I wasn’t strong enough.”

Why did it _hurt_ to listen to her right now? To see her like this? And to add to the uncomfortable tension in his chest, her scent was upsetting him. 

“But it never. Fucking. Helps.” Sera ground out her frustration word by word, with added emphasis as she slammed the rubbing alcohol down on her table, slammed the cap shut, and then ended her sentence by also slamming shut her first-aid kit. 

Vergil had never heard her speak in such a manner before, and gave her a contemplating look. 

She sighed heavily. “I do not regret becoming a knight. I’d like to think I’m good at what I do. But years later, I’m still not getting over what happened to my parents. I thought, if I got stronger, then I could get past that. Evidently, it hasn’t helped. And it’s no wonder, now that I think about it. Being stronger now doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t stronger then. It won’t change the past. And now, what? What do I have left to protect?”

As Sera rested her forehead into her own palm, falling into silence, Vergil evaluated the situation. 

He really ought to do something. This entire situation was upsetting to him, even, and something unexplainable was preventing him from walking away. 

So he retrieved an item on his person that he usually would not have thought to share: a small Vital Star. 

Walking around the table, he came to her side to kneel down and press the item into her open palm. “Is your mentor, and his family, not something worthy of your protection?”

She sniffed. “Leo does not need my help.”

In a rare moment of sentiment, he countered: “But does that mean they are not worth your efforts?”

She looked at him, and then admitted with shame: “You’re right. I’m being very stupid about this, aren’t I?”

“I will not insult you, after the generosity you have shown me. But you could say you are being… short-sighted, at the moment. Now, use this. It will at least make you physically feel better.” He brought her attention back to the vital star by closing her fingers around it.

“This is a fairly rare item you are giving me. Are you sure you want me to use this for mere bruises and scrapes?”

“It’s the least I can do in repayment for your hospitality.” _And maybe if you’re in less pain, I’ll feel less bothered._ But as the thought faded, he became focused on something else. 

Why did she smell so pleasant? Was he misinterpreting the unpleasant feeling he was getting from it?

He crossed the thought from his mind as best he could while she healed with the Vital Star. Except after she was done, the scent only seemed to get sweeter. 

And then she had to make a damnable observation: 

“V, you didn’t become this strong without something difficult in your past, either, did you? I’m not asking you to answer that. You are rarely forthcoming with answers. But if that’s a similar connection we share, then...” She brought her forehead against his, a breach of his personal space, but he did not dare to move away from it. “I hope things will get better for you, too.”

“You should focus a little more on yourself right now. I know what I want, and what I need to do. You’re the one who’s upset and hurt right now.” She was so close to him. Too close. 

She chuckled and moved away, and he felt disappointed. “Less hurt. Maybe still upset. Probably should find a distraction. Ah, V… you do know your hand is still on mine, right?” 

Before he could register what she said, she opened her now-empty hand to properly put his in her grasp. There was a rising heat in his blood now, and he couldn’t really stop the realization of why he was feeling so bothered. 

Her beauty wasn’t from her soft golden hair that she braided back loosely, or the bright turquoise colour in her eyes. It was the fire of her soul when her eyes lit up at a challenge, the tenacity she held in a fight. It was how her hand had callouses from both training and battle experience. It was her want for strength after rising from the ashes of a life-shattering tragedy. 

And also, she smelled too good. He wanted more. 

Later, he would ask himself what in Hell’s name possessed him to kiss her. 

She didn’t reject his kiss, and the thought of comforting her in the moment felt right to him; instinctual, almost. But when it ended, Vergil couldn’t completely hide the panic that surfaced, and shifted his gaze away from hers. _Pathetic_ , he thought, to be feeling abashed. He needed to extract himself from this scenario as quickly as possible...

But she stood up from her chair, lightly tugging at his hand to follow, and thus tugging him away from the thoughts of leaving.

Sera was fairly tall for a woman, but he still had height over her. He was also overdressed, compared to her current ensemble of only a tank top and her pants from her uniform. 

“I’m not opposed to more intimate company if you’re open to it.” She whispered and turned towards the door that he knew was her bedroom, while pulling her top off. Her back had a few scars that told of her resilience.

He couldn’t bear to not follow. 

She was already down to her undergarments by the time she was in her room, and her weapons still coiled about her arms. What she wore wasn’t anything fancy; she was a knight, after all. Shorts and a sports bra were more practical, and at the moment, Vergil could care less about what she had left on, because she approached him again to lightly tug off pieces of his ensemble, laying each shedded piece neatly upon a chair. She paused when he was left with his vest, pants, and boots, then brought her arms about his neck, and nestled her head into his shoulder. 

The more he got to take in her lovely scent, the more his body reacted. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms about her waist. 

He was not going to let her know that he had never done something like this before. 

She, however, clearly had some manner of experience on the subject, yet made no comparison nor comment on it. Sera was already lightly placing kisses up his shoulder, towards his neck, and finally up his jaw and met his lips again. He could tell that she was carefully measuring his reactions, just like how she started off their sparring match. 

He’s done some reading before; mostly clinical ones, plus one very unimpressive guide to intimacy that he didn’t really care for. Intimacy was something he considered pointless, and if he were thinking more clearly, he would be more flustered. Only, something else that was coiled within his carefully contained emotions demanded his needs be met. It demanded fulfillment, and demanded him to put all of his attention on her. 

When her tongue lightly ran over his bottom lip, he didn’t hesitate to part his lips. Like her interactions with him for the past month, she ‘asked’ but kept a comfortable boundary when it came to pressing matters: she wasn’t hungrily looking to dominate or take. She sought to see if he’d reciprocate. So, what she gave, he returned in equal measure. The texture of someone else’s tongue was foreign but surprisingly pleasant. She appeared to particularly like his canines, and so he took care to return the favor. Never let it be said that he wasn’t a quick study; she pulled back after he ran his tongue over one of her own pointed teeth with a light but pleasant surprise. 

“...I might bite. Would you be upset if I did?”

Something within Vergil compelled him to tell her: “Not if you allow me to reciprocate.”

She hummed, and brought a hand to his face. The white and gold plating of her weapon was still on the back of her hands and wrist, as were the segmented blades still coiled up her forearms. “You are truly ethereal, V. Will the presence of my weapons bother you? I never mentioned this before, but they don’t come off, not entirely. They are effectively a part of me, so even if I have no need of them, they will remain. Others have been… uneasy about them, before…”

The implications of “others” pulled at a thread of familiar possessiveness, which he quickly buried. He wasn’t going to let pointless jealousy get mixed in to the present moment. “Then they were cowards, who would not see the beauty in fang and claw. Such others would never appreciate a lioness when they only look for lambs.”

He could see some of her reservations melt away as she took half a step back from him, hand sliding down from his face, to the zipper at his vest. “Then let this lioness show you what she can do.”

There was something lovely about the way she hung back, left arm still circled behind his neck, right hand smoothly unzipping his vest. Easily, she helped him out of the article of clothing, and soon they were helping each other out of the rest of their garments. Eventually, everything was off and set aside. His boots were left at the side of the bed, and when she saw the golden amulet about his neck, she didn’t dare touch it, and told him: “You should put that away, somewhere safe. I can tell it means a lot to you, but more than that, you are not going to enjoy how a pendant can get in the way of things.” So he silently obliged. 

Sera had subtly put herself in control, and Vergil simply allowed her to have her way. Any other time, if he had found himself on his back with someone (or something) hovering over him, it usually meant he was getting attacked. Being vulnerable or at the mercy of another should be triggering panic in him, but instead he was soothed by how close she was, straddled over his midsection. 

And then there was the matter of how utterly delightful it felt to be touched by her. Caution was tossed to the side, and the only thoughts in his mind about this moment were about how she was the only thing that mattered: fire and conviction and resilience and beauty and skill and so much more…

She spent a little further time peppering him with the brush of her lips, always light and gentle. When she brushed her arms and hands against him, he would sometimes feel parts of her weapons, cold against his skin. He thought of them like the claws of a beast, and he wouldn’t declaw her even if he could. 

Soon, Sera moved to shift and back herself off of his body entirely. The slow but alluring pace she had been working with tested his patience, but he was resigned to follow at her pace. She finally put her attention on his cock, which had reacted to her since the moment she brought their foreheads together at the kitchen. 

He wasn’t certain what kind of activity she had in mind. No amount of reading (on a subject with no proper teachings to read about in the first place) would help him anticipate how it would feel to actually have her mouth and tongue around him. She certainly wasn’t looking to take all of him into her mouth, but _hell_ did she put her tongue to use. It took a lot of his willpower to not become undone just from the way she wrapped and twisted her tongue about him. He refused to be so _easy_. Still, a moan escaped him while one hand almost clawed through the sheets at his side. He needed to be careful to not let his demon slip through, so he brought his other hand to brush through Sera’s hair, subtly asking her to stop. She teased the underside of his cock one last time with her lovely tongue before taking him out of the warm confines of her mouth, and looked up at him with light amusement. 

The want and need was pushing from subconscious up to consciousness, and he asked: “What... can I do for you?”

“Oh I have fairly simple expectations...” She seemed already content just to be in the room the way they were, and moved positions again, climbing up to straddle him once more. “That is, if you want to. I’m happy to spend this night with you however you want…”

“That…” He started, while pulling lightly at her hips without thinking, “Would hardly be fair. Our arrangement demands mutual respect, which should mean a fair give and take. I don’t intend to dishonour that.”

She didn’t immediately respond, and he wondered if her hesitance meant something was wrong. But then she seemed to move pass whatever was on her mind, and nudged the tip of his cock ever so slightly into her folds with a sigh upon her lips: “I don’t know how you intend to measure an exact exchange in sex, so how about we just work on having a good time? It doesn’t have to get that complicated, V.” She teased, and he could feel a flush of embarrassment, feeling that he had just been chastised. 

He wasn’t allowed to give a response as she sunk down ever so slowly onto him, working him into her. He really had nothing to compare the sensation to… slick, silky, and hot were the three most immediate words that came to mind. “Tight” registered when she moaned deeply, clearly enjoying what she was receiving from this action. She put in a little more effort when she got near the base of him. “You’re wonderful.” 

He wouldn’t know exactly what the standards for such encounters were, but a positive reaction was good enough. 

He drank in every sensation as she moved, determined to keep enough cognitive function to learn and reciprocate. Her expression showed that she was definitely pleased when he tested the waters by moving his hips with her, and she seemed very pleased when he moved his right hand from her hip to her thigh. When he gently applied some added pressure into his grip of her thigh and hip, she responded by sliding her hands up his torso to rest upon his shoulders, and lightly dug in her fingernails. She did so in a light and teasing manner, and leaned in to growl playfully at him.

Sera’s closeness trapped some of the heat from their bodies between them, and he impulsively moved his left hand from her hip to her upper back, and pressed her flush against him. The softness of her chest against his was new and nice, but none of those new sensations could compare to what her scent was doing to him. There was nothing he could compare it to; even the word ‘sweet’ didn’t truly describe it. The warmth of her body added to the sensations her scent gave him, as was the heat of her that he was sheathed into. He wanted to be pressed in deeper, to work into her with a passion that he hardly experienced before...

That line of thought, combined with a curious spasm from the muscles surrounding him, was enough to bring him over the edge, and his breath hitched at the beginning of his release. Sera remained pressed into his chest, but she also moved her arms up further to comfortably bring them about his neck, nestling a hand under the back of his neck as she moaned into his shoulder and dug her nails into his skin. He couldn’t tell if she was reacting to every twitch of his release, or if his cock was reacting to her body’s continued tightening about him. However that feedback went, even at the end of it, he still felt the want for _more_.

And after a bit of time, Sera could tell that he wanted more, because he was still hard. That wasn’t a usual thing to encounter, especially without some additional work. “I have all night.” She emphasized while extracting herself from his arm, clearly just as wanting as she rolled her hips once to feel the way he still pressed into her. “A night to put some things to the test...” It wasn’t a direct challenge, and Vergil wondered if this meant she knew his lack of experience in this department. 

Then he needed to set things right. 

Moving her was easy with the strength he possessed; but she was wise to what he wanted to do, and went along with their change of positions, with her on her back, and him above her. Finding a comfortable position, he lined himself up with her, and slid in. His cock entered more smoothly this time, her walls amply wet from her own arousal and his cum, and he pressed in as deep as he could. This earned another moan from her. 

Instincts demanded him to work at a wanting pace, and the way Sera reacted only made things all the sweeter: “Oh, V…”

She then said something that he didn’t quite process in the heat of the moment: “You are too good for me…” There was some manner of context to it that eluded him; the way she admired him from below made him want to keep her closer. His mind briefly wandered as he slowed his pace a bit, visually taking her in below her. 

She had a few other faded scars; small ones, wounds that probably were of no consequence. Remembering the event from last week, he leaned away from her to bring a hand to her thigh, examining it. The two long claw marks left a lighter scar than expected. The Vital Star seemed to have done its work well, even for a slightly older wound. 

“It’s sweet of you to worry about that…” She brought her hand over his. “But I’m fine. I’m sure my scars are not an enjoyable sight…”

Was he worried about her? He really shouldn’t worry. She was human… but he couldn’t call her weak. She was simply… human. “I wasn’t…” he started, but changed his response to regard the second part of her statement: “They are proof that you are resilient. It’s not a matter of visual enjoyment…”

She hummed delightfully, and said:

“Through the misty looking glass  
We see only what we are willing to show.  
But those small connections we make  
Can still be worthwhile... memories... to hold…” Towards the end of her recitation, her voice tapered off to an embarrassed hush. “I’m sorry. I’m often left alone with my own thoughts and…”

Remembering her writing sessions that he’s seen her immerse in, he told her: “You should write that down.”

And she laughed, softly, with relief. “Later, then. Aren’t we still in the middle of something? Come here…” She moves his hand from her thigh, across her belly, down to where they were connected. That sent a reminder about things he’d read before that he otherwise had forgotten. Embarrassed yet again that he seemed to still be lacking in knowing what he should do without prompting, he masked the emotion by looking away from her face, focusing on lightly circling his thumb about her clit. 

The more pleasantly she reacted to him, the lighter his heart. He picked up the pace, and the combination of her pleasure with his wants spiked him to another climax when she writhed delightfully beneath him. (He kept to himself the satisfaction of knowing this is what he could do to her.)

When he withdrew, the sight of his cum slowly flowing from her opening was satisfying and right to him. And _still_ , he felt the want for more. 

Sera sighed as she lifted herself out of her bliss, shifting to sit up, not caring one bit that she was dripping cum onto her sheets. Climbing close, she wrapped him in a warm embrace, and kissed him. This time, it was no longer tentative, knowing what he was willing to give and take. Eventually, she then worked her kisses down his neck, and nibbled lightly at the base of his neck. 

And then, she applied pressure. He thought that when she said “I might bite” she meant she would apply a full set of teeth marks. Instead, she leaned in, and applied pressure to the base of his neck at an angle, only digging a single canine and its surrounding incisors in. By the time he realized that she didn’t mean to just bite, but to draw blood, he froze as she pulled just enough to break skin. 

_I should be concerned about this_. Blood was something as sacred (so to speak) as it was taboo in regards to demons and devils. Human blood is the source of demon power… and demon blood sows chaos among humans. Blood exchange could be dangerous...

She didn’t draw much. Just a drop or two. And the brief moment where her tongue lapped it up, Vergil felt like a fire was ignited. Never had he lost so much control of his other side before, yet a rumbling need sounded from his throat and chest as he pulled away to readjust their positions. 

He pulled them both off the bed, to hold her close with her back to his chest. Snaking one hand up her torso, past her chest, he brought his hand to her neck, and then stopped at her jaw to tilt her head back into his shoulder. His other arm was circled around her waist securely. She moaned again, and said: “There’s the fire I knew you had.”

“You haven’t seen fire, yet…” He rumbled, but internally told himself that he had to keep enough control. Why the hell was he building towards a Trigger? As he was, he could already hurt her… and that would go against everything that led up to now. No, he will not lose control in that manner. But he will give her more than what he’s already given. 

There was no question against that, especially when she told him: “ _You_ are worth the burn, then. You, who would see a lioness instead of a lamb with ill-fitted claws.”

He gained an extra amount of understanding of her, hearing that. She had pride, even when her strength had its limitations. She wanted to be seen as what she was: powerful in her own right, a predator, not a prey. A part of him thought that even among her fellow knights, she ought to be _queen_. Even he knew that was a high compliment, and was surprised the thought came to him at all. 

She also didn’t want anything less in a partner, apparently. Now a few other things made sense. Other partners were uneasy with her ability to become aggressive. Fang and Claw…

Yes, this was perfect. This was good. 

“You deserve better than to be treated as if you did not deserve your standing. Your peers don’t show you enough respect.”

“Rarely anyone shows me true respect.” 

“Is that why one of your stipulations to me being your tenant was respect? You did not need to be so pointed about it… I would have shown you respect even if you hadn’t made it a rule.” He muttered into her neck, taking in her scent again. His hand did not leave the base of her jaw, and she certainly didn’t mind. Her own hand was about her own throat with his, relishing how he handled her… and Vergil understood that he was being _allowed_ to handle her in such a manner. 

“But being pointed about it was the _point_ , V. Besides, you were so skittish, then. The rule of respect was for you. I didn’t want to make you feel even more unwelcome than how the rest of the citizens were being towards you.” Her other hand made its way down towards his arm about her waist, and he heard the platings on the back of her hand lightly shift and click into place. Now her left hand had claw-tips, courtesy of her weapon. And she lightly grazed it along his arm. 

“It’s funny you say that, when they don’t seem to treat you any better.”

He felt her lightly laugh at that. “Yes, but to a degree, they have to treat me okay, even if they still believe I didn’t earn it. I did my due diligence in training under Leo’s guidance. Leo has the respect of the people, so I am given an approximation of it. Now, when did you become so chatty?” Her claws dug ever so lightly into his arm. “Fuck me like you’ve been meaning to.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, but first, he satisfied an urge that she stoked by sinking his own elongated fangs into her neck. Had he been thinking straight, he would have stopped himself. She might have noticed that his teeth did not feel normal. But he didn’t intend to do more than what she did to him: just a light puncture, and a little bit of blood. Before taking in the bright red elixer, he ushered her forward, and pressed her into the bed. She gathered one of her haphazardly tossed pillows into her arms while he leaned in to lick at the wound he created. 

Her sweet blood was like zest to his system; a light shock to spur him on. He readjusted her body to his liking, and didn’t hesitate to plunge back into her, pushing himself and the leftover fluids in deeper. This position gave him better control over the pace which he would draw his cock in and out of her folds, and he found that she loved it best when he would reach into the deepest parts of her. There was enough wetness that the mess they made was slowly running down her inner thighs, and definitely all over the sheets below. 

And the thought of filling her with even more was compelling. 

“I can’t help but think that maybe you haven’t been satisfied before.” He mused, more to himself, out loud. 

“As you said, they weren’t worth it.” She scoffed through another moan.

There was a sense of preening within him now, and now he was determined to make sure he made this worth her while. “Tell me what you want.” He was feeling bold, now that he knew what he was working with. 

“ _You_.”

It was so simple; hard to say what the answer was supposed to mean, but it was enough for him to want to slam into her harder, and faster, until she mewled in response. He could keenly feel her milk him, and that was his undoing, as he came for the third time.

When he finally withdrew from her, he had to admit he liked the sight of pearly white being barely contained within her. Compelled by the sight and feeling comfortable enough with the situation he got himself into, he nudged her to flip onto her back, and leaned in to trap her beneath him. Her neck wound was still bleeding lightly, though clearly healing. He enjoyed the taste of both light sweat and blood about her wound, as he lightly pressed at her clit with the knuckle of his thumb while pushing two fingers into her. Eventually, she came again, and he was feeling the buzzing in his blood settle into contentment. 

By then, even if he had the ability to keep going, she was clearly tired. Now that the moment had tapered from heated passion to the aftermath, there was a pause where there needed to be considerations of… what now?

Except Sera didn’t seem to care too much about the more complicated matters at this point. Her lack of worry caused a lack of concern on Vergil’s part, and so neither of them cared about the consequences that would come of this. (One would discover said consequences in a few months; the other? 23 years.)

The mess they made, the implications of what happened… nothing mattered as Sera showered him with affectionate touches and kisses before pulling him completely back into bed. She brought a blanket comfortably over them, and did not give him the chance to refuse to stay. 

This was somehow fine to him. He had a feeling that if she had tried to make him leave, he would have protested. With her nestled at his side, he was oddly comforted. 

But he also briefly thought of a past long gone, when he had a home, and the safety of family. 

He still had something he must do.

“You understand that… I will be leaving soon, correct?”

Sera nodded sleepily beside him: “I know. Can’t have everything. That’s okay, though. This place would probably drive you crazy if you stayed too long.”

Knowing what little he knew of her, he almost asked if she wanted to leave, too. But no, that would not work. It can’t. It won’t. She was fire and resilience and also _human_.

And without more power, he would not be able to protect anything. The idea that he could have more of this had to perish. She would only be in more danger by associating with him. 

“V…” She nestled herself closer. “Whatever it is you’re looking for out there… if there’s anything left for you to protect… hold it close.”

She wasn’t wise to his past, or his goals. He knew that she said it out of projection of her own experiences. But it was comforting. He thought of his mother. He thought of Dante. 

He thought of the direction he could go now, with what little knowledge he had found to point him forward. There were other gates and seals he needed to visit. And maybe, now that it’s been about a year, Dante would be a bit more agreeable when he broached the subject of power with him again.

He also thought about the Order of the Sword’s own plans. Their intentions were iffy, but he could not be the final judge and jury of that. Perhaps, they will one day find their own means of power. And if they did, he was certain Sera would wield it well. 

“I could say the same, for you.” He told her. But had already fallen asleep. 

* * *

Vergil was never afraid of falling. And seeing Dante’s outstretched hand, he scoffed. No matter how hard he tried, Dante was not seeing or agreeing with his point of view. What was more frustrating, was that Dante wasn’t just verbally disagreeing. The outcome of their fights were physical representations of Dante’s refusals. 

He was not about to just go back with Dante, as if he admitted to Dante’s decision being right! No, it wasn’t necessarily a matter of right or wrong. It was the matter that they disagreed on how they should proceed, as individuals, but also as brothers. And it was infuriating! 

But he didn’t have to go back with Dante and stay with him, did he? (That night that felt like a dream came to mind…)

_Dearest bluebird_

_Who travels with nary a break,_

_My home will always be open_

_You need no key for the gate._

...No. He hadn’t found what he needed yet. How could he protect what mattered, or hold close what mattered, when he couldn’t even defeat his own brother? _(The very one he should be protecting…_ But the thought was so small that it barely registered.) 

He can’t fulfill any promise or responsibility like this. He had to do better. Better than what he was when he lost his mother. Better than what his father was, as Sparda had evidently failed. Better than what he was, now. 

Otherwise, he was unworthy of returning to anywhere he might call home.

Yamato’s blade sang through the air. A physical refusal towards Dante’s offer. For now, this made them even, right?

And he fell.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Title inspired by the song “Fever Dream” by mxmtoon  
> \- I honestly have a lot more details regarding Sera and Vergil’s interactions but I’ll save some of those for later, because this? This was just my attempt at building up to smut.  
> \- Which, by the way… never written smut before. I don’t think I need to say how anxious I feel about this. Fantasy sex and real sex are two completely different things and apparently writing one is harder than reading one. :’D  
> \- I realized halfway through that the point of view I chose to write from was going to make for a difficult one… and this became an exploration of something else.  
> \- Don't get me wrong, there was a lot more stuff that could have been done... but Vergil's going to have to be taught those another day...  
> \- You guys tell me why her scent was so important. ;P


End file.
